The Lady of the Lake
by SilverConsular
Summary: "It doesn't matter." she said. "This is my fault. If I didn't exist, none of this would have happened." "Of course you matter-!" "Maybe. But I still have to do it."
1. Chapter 1

_...Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur,_

 _Which was my pride: for thou rememberest how_

 _In those old days, one summer noon, an arm_

 _Rose up from out the bosom of the lake,_

 _Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,_

 _Holding the sword—and how I row'd across_

 _And took it, and have worn it, like a king:_

 _And, wheresoever I am sung or told_

 _In aftertime, this also shall be known:_

 _But now delay not: take Excalibur,_

 _And fling him far into the middle mere:_

 _Watch what thou seëst, and lightly bring me word…_

-Morte d'Arthur, Lord Alfred Tennyson

"We are here."

I mumble an answer back, rubbing sleep from my eyes, and stretching my legs out as far as I am allowed in the small car. Isabelle shifts fluidly from her seat, somehow managing to teeter out of the car in her heels and not immediately fall down. For a moment, I just sit there bemusedly, staring at the back of the passenger seat. Then-

"Come on, Bethany!" Isabelle opens the door, and I jump, staring at her a moment. "Do I have to carry you out of there?"

I groan and rub my eyes again before undoing my seat belt. Swinging my legs out of the car, I stand and stare at Isabelle in a daze. We had been driving nonstop for hours, and I couldn't seem to gather my bearings. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see several faces squished against the windows of the school building. We must have been a sight; Isabelle in her pinstriped jacket and pencil skirt, and me in a stained hoodie and jeans. I yawn as a grizzled elderly man walks up to greet us.

"Welcome! You must be Bethany Rose." he exclaims, his false enthusiasm beginning to sicken me. "We've heard much about you. Welcome to Yancy!"

Yancy Academy for the Gifted. Even the name sounded fancier than most of the places I'd been. Not that I'd been many places. I normally ended up home-schooled so that I'd stay out of trouble, or I'd be in the back of some run-down public school. Perhaps it was fitting that I'd be going to a place for troubled kids.

"I am...ah, sorry, I'm tired. I…" Why did I keep stuttering?

"Bethany is very glad to be here." Isabelle interjects when she sees I am not entirely conscious. "It has been a long drive, and it would be beneficial for her to get some sleep. Perhaps this can be done in the morning?"

"Oh, yes of course, Miss Jones." the man nods. "I am rather tired myself." I might have been imagining it, but I believed I heard him mutter "If that Jackson gives me any more paper work to do…"

I give myself a brief moment to look over the building-a large, musty brick building-before I wander over to the trunk of the car to grab my bag. Isabelle and the man continue conversing as if I hadn't left.

Before you get the wrong idea, none of this was my fault. I'd been in the system-the foster care system, I mean-for as long as I could remember. I'd been exchanged from family to family since I first had been found abandoned on the coast of Virginia around ten years ago. Isabelle, my current social worker, had set me up to go to Yancy because she hadn't been able to find a family to house me for the school year.

According to every social worker that's worked with me, my case is very strange. I was told that a family had wanted to adopt me right off the bat. I mean, there are a lot of people looking to adopt a baby. Later reports say that the family decided against it because I was 'constantly endangering myself and others.' When I was older, they told me it was because I had wandered off from my nursery group unsupervised (apparently I could walk at the time) and returned riding on a small fox. I probably would have found this story to be a fantasy, but there had been other incidents since then. Whenever I touched water, it would shape itself into some object or creature.

And of course there was that time (Heh, time, I'm hilarious) I'd spent in 1945 talking to some old war veteran.

And another time, an older neighborhood boy thought it would be a good idea to carry me back to his friends and keep me there until my current foster parents paid for my release. At least, he tried. I remember screaming, but I don't remember exactly what I did because my eyes were closed. All I remember is that I suddenly was hovering a foot off the ground, and the boy was unconscious in front of me, a trickle of blood leaking out of his nose. That was when the monsters started coming for me, and I no longer could stay in one place for very long.

"Hello." a voice, not unkind, sounds behind me. I whirl around and find myself staring, mainly because I hadn't expected anyone at all to talk to me.

The wheelchair, understandably, is the first thing I see. The man in it however, is more interesting. He has a well-kept beard, and his eyes seem to see right through me. "Um...Hi." unconsciously, I cross my arms around my middle, trying to make myself smaller.

"I'm Mr. Brunner." the man tells me. "I am the latin teacher here."

"They teach latin here?" I blurt out, before clapping my hands over my mouth. "Oh, erm, sorry, I'm tired and I've just never had a latin class before, and-"

The man holds up his hands and I fall silent. He smiles encouragingly at me before looking down at his clipboard. "It seems you'll be rooming with...ah, Nancy Bobofit. She's a bit older than you, but if you do well on your placement exams, you'll be in the same class-"

"Yeah, that'll happen." I mutter before I can help myself. Mr. Brunner blinks at me.

"And why is that?"

"Erm...books don't like me." I say. Mr. Brunner stares at me for a moment, but I don't elaborate on my statement.

"Ah." he says. It looks like he wants to say more, but stops. "...well, if you'll follow me, I can take you to your dorm." he informs me.

"Yeah, great." I sigh. All I want to do is collapse on a bed and never wake up. I snatch my bag from the trunk and sling it over my shoulder.

"Is that all you have?" Mr. Brunner blinks.

I shrug at him, and he stares at me for a bit before signalling something to the man speaking to Isabelle. "Who's that?" I ask.

"It is the headmaster."

"Huh." I answer. Isabelle spares me a quick wave when she sees where I am.

As we enter the school into a sort of commons area, I am peered at by several curious students, some of whom are carrying their dinner, others rigorously studying from textbooks as thick as the great wall of china. Or maybe I'm exaggerating. My gaze is drawn for a moment to one of the boys playing cards in the corner. Something about him seems almost...familiar. It doesn't look like he's bothered to take care of his hair for years, but I'm not exactly one to talk. His friend catches me staring and nudges him. As we make eye contact, I suddenly can't breathe. His eyes...the deep blue-green...they're the same eyes I see whenever I look in the mirror. The boy stares at me for a moment, cocks an eyebrow, then turns away. His friend, a scrawny looking fellow, glances at me a few moments longer before returning to his conversation.

I realize that Mr. Brunner is trying to get my attention and turn back to him.

"Thought I saw something." I murmur, before following him out of the room.

I was expecting him to take me to the stairs and give me directions from there, but Mr. Brunner leads me to an elevator. The sign on the front says "Only available for use by the physically injured or disabled." Mr. Brunner doesn't protest my using it, though, so I step in with him. When the doors close, I lapse into an awkward silence.

"Where are you from, Bethany?"The question is so sudden that I whip my head around to stare at him.

"Erm...everywhere. I think."

"You think?"

"It's strange." I evade.

"I see." the teacher seems amused. The doors open again. "Come along."

The dorms for the girls are clear on the other side of the building. As we walk, Mr. Brunner asks me several strange questions, and I feel myself become increasingly nervous. People don't normally ask this many questions, and I admit freely that I am an incredibly bad liar.

When he asks if anything strange had happened to me recently, I nearly trip over my own feet.

"Oh, sorry...um...there was...a rock."

Mr. Brunner looks pointedly at the ground, where no rock could be found.

"Well, erm...I had...bad...cheese yesterday? Is that strange? I think it is. Right?"

He smiles indulgently, but says nothing more until we arrived at the dorm.

"Here we are. Room 202. Nancy should be inside." he knocked, and a nasally voice answered.

"Go away."

"Hello, Miss Bobofit. You were informed that your roommate would be arriving…?"

A muffled groan, and then footsteps. A red haired girl with a scrunched up face, presumably Nancy Bobofit, peers at us.

"I'm doing homework." she declares, glaring at me. I enviously eye her sleek ponytail. I'd never been able to get my hair that orderly; in the end I had chopped it off to my shoulders. Even then, it always looked like someone had put bits of twine into it and forgot to take it out.

"I won't bother you." I say. "I just want to sleep after that-"

"You better." she says threateningly.

Mr. Brunner clears his throat, reminding her that he is there. "As you know, Miss Rose will be staying with you from now on."

"Of course." Nancy remarks sweetly. She opens the door about a foot, and sidesteps so that there is a small opening. "Get in."

I stare a bit before wedging my backpack in the opening and squeezing through. Nancy pushes on the door so that the moment I make it through, it immediately snaps closed behind me.

"Sleep well, Bethany." Mr. Brunner sighs through the wood. "And Nancy, do try to be nice."

Nancy rolls her eyes but says in her sweet soprano voice "Of course!"

She presses her ear to the door, and I take in the appearance of the room.

Much of the left side of the room is plastered with posters of famous actors and singers, and plush pillows. Several books sit untouched on a shelf. On the bed, a laptop is open, prominently displaying a picture of one of the actors from the posters. The other side is devoid of anything, though by the spare bits of tape hanging off of the walls, someone had pulled more of those posters off of it in a bed holds a faded green blanket, and is covered with scraps of paper, candy wrappers, and empty potato chip bags.

"That one's yours." Nancy glares at me. "Stay on your side."

She doesn't speak, just goes back to the bed. "Alright." I sigh and move to clean the bed up. "You stay on your side, I'll stay on mine."

I toss the food wrappings in the trash, ignoring Nancy's accusing look.

Welcome to Yancy, I tell myself. My roommate hates me, my teacher wants to interrogate me, I'm the transfer student, and I will be stuck eating school food for the next few months. Yay.

At least now I can finally, _finally_ , sleep.

I had been right to assume that my placement exams didn't put me in the sixth grade, like Mr. Brunner had hoped. Instead, I was put into the year below. I had informed Nancy of this, but she seemed disinterested, and only answered with a "hmm…" as she clicked on the link to one of her gossip websites.

I spent most of my first days at Yancy in the back of the classroom trying and failing to read some of the textbooks I'd "borrowed" from Nancy's shelf. It wasn't like she was using them anyways. I'd established a semi-regular schedule where I'd either work on school or mope. Mostly I'd mope, which probably wasn't healthy. Isabelle called me a few times to check in, and to tell me to at least try to make friends. Which, to be fair, I did, but most of the girls seemed more interested in the latest gossip.

Mr. Brunner called me to his office a couple of times for some general discussions about my progress, which I surprisingly enjoyed. He would offer me a cup of hot chocolate, then enthuse about some legend from Greece or Rome. Of course, he would also ask the same sort of questions that he had asked me when we'd first met. However, my wariness at his questions eventually wore away and I came to respect him. It was Mr. Brunner that had pulled me aside after class one day to hand me a pad of blank drawing paper.

"Learn." he told me exasperatedly. "At least try to find something that you enjoy doing."

After that, I spent most of my free time with an art book on one knee and drawing vigorously. The teachers caught me a couple times, but I then started doing my drawings on my worksheets so that they couldn't take them away from me.

For a small while, life seemed almost normal. Then, of course it was disrupted, and I met Grover.

I, of course, was not paying particular attention to where I was going when I turned a corner and crashed into the poor unsuspecting boy. My sketchbook went flying, and Grover's algebra papers flew everywhere.

"Oh!" I give a start of surprise. I drop to the floor and attempt to compile his things into semi-decent order.

"Sorry!" the boy says, his voice two pitches higher than I expect it to be.

"I'm sorry!" I remark, not two seconds later, then stop as I register what he just said. "No, really. I wasn't paying attention." The boy remains standing. "Hello? Are you going to help me pick this up, or…"

I glance up at him, and find him frozen, shocked, and perhaps a bit frightened. I follow his gaze and find it latched onto my sketchbook, which had fallen open to one of my earlier drawings, a picture of a cruel looking woman covered in feathers.

"Hello?" I try again.

"Oh, right." the boy says. He places a three fingered claw briefly over his heart before crouching down next to me. "Your drawing is...very good."

I shrug. "Not really. I just started learning, and that drawing is the worst thing ever."

"Well, maybe, but it's cool. Why did you draw that woman, though?"

I wasn't about to tell him that I'd seen a woman like that looking up at my window. "Oh, I just had a dream about it."

The boy closes his eyes for a moment, and I worry that he's going into a daze again. Then he abruptly stands up with his papers. I follow a moment later, tucking the picture out of sight.

"I'm Grover." he says, an implied question in his tone.

"Bethany."

"I've heard of you. You're the one that arrived last month, right? Are you meeting anyone for dinner?"

"Uh…" I'd been planning on sneaking away from the giggly girls that expected me to sit with them every day, then maybe go to bed a bit early. "Not really."

"Would you like to sit with me and Percy? My friend, I mean?"

I don't exactly know why I agreed, but I did.

Of course, it was just my luck that Percy was the boy that I'd been caught staring at when I had arrived. He gave me another one of those looks that said what are you doing here?

Grover clears his throat. "Bethany, Percy." He draws our names out like he isn't quite sure how to pronounce them right. "Percy, Bethany." He glances between the two of us, as if he just discovered the very secrets of the universe. "I asked if Bethany wanted to sit with us." he informs Percy after a moment of us staring at each other.

The green eyed boy squints at me before speaking. "Aren't you Nancy Bobofit's roommate?"

"Who is Nan...oh, yes. Her. I am." my voice sounds more timid than usual, and I wince. "Her roommate, I mean."

"She says you keep peeing yourself at night."

"Oh, I...Huh." Don't cry. I frantically tell myself. You're not a crybaby. You can handle it.

"Nancy's like that." Grover pitches in, setting his tray on the table. Hesitantly, I follow suit, glancing around the room. "Urgh, we have to deal with her all day tomorrow." There is an edge of nervousness to his voice.

"What's tomorrow?" I ask, glad for the change in subject.

"The sixth grade is going to the Art Museum." Percy says. "Anyway, Grover, have you done that essay for yet?"

Percy for the most part, speaks to Grover, occasionally sparing me a remark or two when I ask a question. Then he mentions that he has ADHD and Dyslexia and I blurt out "I have that too!"

Once again, I find myself wishing that I could stuff a sock into my mouth so that I don't make a fool of myself. But Percy just laughs.

"This is a school for troubled kids."

"And you're...troubled?"

The boy gives me an indulgent smirk and says "You could say that."

Somehow, I find the idea hard to believe. Percy seems more sure of himself, more normal and easy to talk to. More than me, anyway.

I tune out the rest of the conversation, and spend the rest of the meal pushing food around my plate, dejectedly wondering about the math homework I had to do for Mrs. Dodds.

Finally, I can't stand it anymore. "I need to go do my homework."

Percy rose both his eyebrows at me, but bobs his head. "Alright."

"Will you sit with us tomorrow?" Grover asks me before I can leave.

"You-you want me to sit with you?"

"Oh." he looks dejected, and suddenly I feel bad.

"No, I mean, of course. I'd like to. I'm just...surprised. And...I'm bad at this."

"Huh?" Grover stares at me, his mouth full of potato.

I attempt to elaborate. "Erm...friends, and talking...and stuff."

Percy crosses his arms and huffs. "See you tomorrow." he states.

"Um. Yeah." I say hesitantly. "'Twas good to meet you, Percy."

Nancy sneers at me when I get back to the dorm. I sneer back.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, I found the bed on the other side of the room devoid of a certain snobby redhead, and thought _score!_ I was sorely tempted to draw little mustaches and devil horns on Nancy's "hot-guy posters" as she so aptly named them. Sadly, I refrained from it.

Nancy's side of the room remained the most orderly and decorated. All I had were a couple of drawings, Nancy's garbage (which she kept indiscreetly tossing over to my side of the room), and the clothes I had strewn about the floor. I eyed some of the clothes for a moment before muttering " _what the heck"_ and headed to breakfast in my pajamas. This decision, in hindsight, was not the best idea, but hey, I didn't care.

Mrs. Dodds, who was supervising the students as they headed out to the bus shot a glare at me. She'd been doing that more and more lately. When I'd arrived, she'd barely spare me a second glance, but then suddenly she decided that I couldn't get an answer correct if I had a picture of a puppy drawn next to it. Maybe she just doesn't like puppies.

Grover waves nervously at me, then elbows Percy, who gives me a brief shrug.

Math is taught by a substitute today. I don't think she liked me arriving in my pajamas, because she made me sit in the front of the class and asked me nearly all of the questions. At the end of the class, I still didn't understand most of what I'd been told, but at least the teacher had tried. At least it hadn't been Mrs. Dodds, who would have scowled me and made me a public spectacle.

I was relieved when I had my last class of the day, language arts, and was finally able to stop staring blankly at half-formed words and phrases. The field trip kids weren't back yet, and everyone was heading up to their rooms to do their homework, so I decided that I could do with a bit of a walk. I wanted a taste of the sounds of New York. After being indoors for so long, I wanted to hear the rustling of wind through the trees and the murmurings of the nearby river on my tongue.

My time at Yancy had been strangely devoid of monsters, so imagine my surprise when I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Cursing myself for letting my guard down, I duck under an outstretched arm, a clawed hand that I realize belonged to the feathered woman I'd seen under my window weeks ago, the one in my sketchbook.

"Give it back." the woman hissed. I started. The monsters never made requests.

"Give what back?"

She didn't answer, just puffed up and bared her teeth-her razor sharp fangs-at me and got into what I assumed was her battle stance. I clenched my fists, attempting to call to something, _anything._

I wish I could say that I busted out in some awesome martial arts routine, discovered some magic glowy ability that allowed me to reduce missus feathers to cinders. Unfortunately, I couldn't be that awesome. Le sigh.

The lightbulb in a nearby lamppost exploded. Missus feathers stared at it for a moment, and I tried to take advantage of the distraction to dart away from her, but she followed me. I started to panic, and with the feeling I felt whatever force lay inside me unravel in a quick burst. I could feel it swirling around in a frenzy, banging on some metaphysical door with such force it set my teeth on edge. More light bulbs exploded, which might have been dramatic if it hadn't been for the fact that it was still light out. Missus feathers lunged for me. I let out a girlish scream (because, you know, I _am_ a girl. Girlish screams are the most dignified screams), then picked up one of the fallen shards and to throw at my pursuer. It simply went through. So much for that idea. My panic became more pronounced. My only advantage in these situations seemed rest solely on my ability to escape, and at that moment I could see nothing that would allow me to. There were no fire alarms around, my magic was completely uncontrollable, and there was a very angry bird lady chasing me around for some reason. Well, people, it was nice knowing you.

I must have gotten some luck, if it could be called luck, when I was saved by the bus. Literally. I ran across the street directly when the school bus turned the corner. The lady sniffed at it, and I watched wide-eyed from across the street as it let out an inhuman screech and fled. Figuring that I better get inside before I got lectured by Mrs. Dodds, I stepped into the shadows and waited for the teachers to be looking down at their clipboards before I snuck in.

My heart was still racing when I reentered the building, and I made a beeline for the bathroom immediately. There were a couple of other girls inside, both of whom must have found my panicked expression and stuttered breaths odd, but they settled for merely giving me a strange look and leaving.

Why had that monster been chasing me? I hadn't been attacked ever since I'd gotten to Yancy, why would it happen now? And...why had she asked me that question. What had she been looking for?

Unfortunately, my mind could only handle so much confusion, and I let out a frustrated groan when I found that I couldn't answer any of my questions. I splashed some water on my face, and took a few deep breaths. A feeling of calm washed over me, and I watched a couple of strange critters make their way across the sink a moment before they dissipated. I hated being like this, and I hated not knowing why, but I knew I had to deal with it. Still, when I emerged from the bathroom to go to dinner, I had to hastily wipe my salt-stained cheeks with a paper towel.

Grover and Percy were sitting at the same table, heatedly discussing something.

"Hello," my voice came out shaky, and I cringed inwardly. I cleared my throat. "Um...how was the field trip?"

Percy opened his mouth, but Grover interrupted. "It was great! We got to see this...um...coffin from this girl's...funeral." His ears seemed to visibly droop as Percy and I stared at him.

"It was...interesting." Percy states. Silence. Wow. These two had been talking non-stop yesterday. What had changed?

"Were you outside?" Grover asked. "When we got back?"

I jump. "You saw me?"

Percy rolls his eyes. "Everyone saw you. You looked like you'd seen a ghost."

I turn white, but say nothing. "It was nothing."

Grover stares at me, then proceeds to start devouring his enchilada. I glance around momentarily. A Perky blonde woman is checking names off her checklist while Mr. Brunner calls them out, but I can't seem to see Mrs. Dodds anywhere. I don't know what to think of that.

"Who's that? Where's Mrs. Dodds?" I ask, staring at the blonde woman. Grover chokes, and Percy's head snaps towards me.

"W-who?" Grover asks, still speaking through his food. His eyes dart nervously around, and I feel my brows furrow.

"What do you mean, who?" I ask.

"That's what I'd like to know." Percy interjects before Grover can recover. He turns to me. "Did you ever notice anything... _odd_...about Mrs. Dodds?"

I shrug. "I barely knew her. She made me erase used textbooks-"

"-in detention. I know. She did that to me too."

"Huh." I say. "So, do you know where she is?"

"Um…" Percy looks nervous, and Grover finally swallows his food.

"There has never been a Mrs. Dodds." he blurts, a bit too quickly. We both turn to him, and I feel one of my eyebrows raise.

The boy's ears flush, and he stands quickly. "I need to speak with Mr. Brunner about our last quiz." He says loudly. Percy and I stare after him before turning back to the table.

"So what did happen?" I ask.

Percy gives me a skeptical look. "You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me." I stare directly into his eyes for a moment, before sighing. "Have you ever had anything strange happen to you?" I ask. "Something that you couldn't explain, something that seems…"

"What do you mean?" Percy's face has a strange look on it, as if he can't believe what he's hearing.

I look past him to the wall. "I'd call it magic, I guess."

Percy makes a gesture, as if he wants to question me right then and there, but he restrains himself. "I'd say that...you aren't entirely crazy."

My eyes snap back to his. "Good." I say. "Then I'm not the only one."

We don't bring up anything about magic for the rest of the semester, but it was obvious both of us wanted to talk about it. Every now and then, Percy would mention Mrs. Dodds, but people looked at him like he was psycho. And then they thought we were messing with them when I mentioned that I remembered the batty old teacher as well.

The weather seemed to be as cranky as I was. Every night, I'd hear Nancy grumble as a horrible thunderstorm messed with her internet connection, and some of my classmates exchanged stories about the unusual number of planes that had crashed down into the atlantic ocean. I hated being cooped up inside, and often found myself staring wistfully out the window instead of paying attention to my classes.

Mr. Brunner met with me a couple of times, but he seemed different, more urgent.

"I just don't feel up to it." I grumbled when he asked me about my studies.

"Then get up to it!" he lectured. "You need to do your best, not sit there and mope!"

Silence. "For what?" I ask. "It's not like anyone cares. I'm just a charity case here. Everyone else has somewhere to go. I don't."

He stares at me. "I expect better from you, Bethany." he says. He writes a note in scribbled handwriting. "Take this to the councillor. I'll hear if you haven't gone."

I grumble at him.

After that meeting I try to better at least in his latin class, which admittedly are actually kind of fun. While I still find memorizing Latin roots difficult, I have no problem with learning some of the Greek and Roman myths he tells us about, or taking up his challenges to learn more about myths in my freetime. While Greek and Roman myths were great, I found myself most enthralled by Arthurian legend. When I told Mr. Brunner this, he blinked and asked why. I told him it seemed more applicable to my own life than the Greek ones did.

"I guess I'm just fond of the story." I tell him. "They're all just regular people trying to make the world better. No parents eating their kids...erm...sort of. And Merlin is awesome."

When finals roll around the corner, I am surprised to find myself disappointed that I'd be leaving Yancy. But I did. I'd miss sitting with Grover, and my classes, and being able to talk to Mr. Brunner or the councillor at any time. At any rate, the headmaster would be relieved. Between myself and Percy, who had somehow gotten himself expelled, we must have given him a killer headache.

Percy seems to get more and more irritated when he begins studying for the finals. Since both of us are dyslexic and ADHD, I offer to study with him so that we didn't have to suffer alone.

"Yeah, because that would make this so much better." Percy snaps. He runs a hand over his face. I sigh, feeling my own annoyance grow. "Grover seems to think that just because you look a bit like me, we'll get along great."

That was true. While Grover and I were friends, we were still in different years. To he and Percy, I was just some charity-case little girl.

"Look." My voice is small, but in my head, I'm fuming. Percy glares at me and I cringe as I'm hit with the intensity of his deluxe _I'll-kill-you-later_ stare. "I don't like this any more than you do."

"Stop acting like you understand."

"I do." I snap.

"You don't." Percy's voice is even. "All this time, I've been wishing to jump in a cab and go see my mom, but I don't want to disappoint her. And she has to deal with my stupid stepfather-"

"Yeah, you told me." My anger crescendos. I just wanted to help, but Percy had treated me with nothing but cool indifference until I'd mentioned that I remembered Mrs. Dodds, and even then, he only acknowledged me at certain times. "Do you think you're the only one having a hard time?" My voice is rising, but I can't help it. "Have you even considered what _I'm_ going through, Percy? I've spent my whole life being jerked around in the system? Do _you_ understand Percy? I've been in the system since I was a _baby._ At least you have a home to go back to!" Tears are pricking my eyes, but I angrily wipe them away and give him a half-hearted punch in the shoulder. "Here you are moping about everything, and I don't even know where I'll be tomorrow, let alone next year! No one wants me. Percy. I've spent my whole life wondering what was wrong with me, and the first person I find who _knows something, anything,_ about it _-_ just...is…" I glance around, seeing that Percy is no longer looking at me, but at my surroundings. His stance has become defensive, as if he's expecting me to attack him .

As I'd ranted, I hadn't noticed the flickering lights, the levitating school supplies, or the fact that my skin was _glowing._ I close my eyes and let out a breath, a sob, still thrumming with energy. Gradually, I feel the mystical force calm. I can feel Percy's gaze, a mixture of confusion and anger.

"I'm sorry." I say. I don't look at him before I turn and run.

Dinner is silent that night.

"What happened?" Grover asked blearily. There are dark bags under his eyes. The poor guy had been studying longer than either of us.

"Nothing." Percy glares at his food. I shrug.

"I'm going to-yeah." I stand, because it's clear I'm not even welcome at their table anymore.

I actually do study, but I end up tossing my book at the floor and staring at the ceiling. Why had I snapped at Percy like that? I didn't normally just blurt out my feelings to anyone. And how could I have let my emotions get the better of me?

If it couldn't get any worse, Nancy Bobofit enters with her gaggle of giggly girls. They pause, looking at me.

"Out." Nancy orders. Her friends, unsurprisingly, giggle. Normally, I would have argued, but with the emotions running through me, I probably would have made something explode, so I listen for once.

I need to clear my head. My feet carry me to Mr. Brunner's room before I realize where I'm going. Then-

"...worried about Percy, sir." that was Grover's voice.

The boy himself is standing on the opposite side of the hallway, just as surprised to see him as he is to see me. Great. I was the last person he probably wanted to see right now.

The conversation in the office continues as Grover expresses his concerns. Part of me wants to drift away and pretend I didn't hear anything, but my curiosity peaks. Why is Grover worried about Percy? He seemed perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

"...alone this summer. I mean, a Kindly One in the _school._ Now that we know for sure, and _they_ know too-"

"-We would only make matters worse by rushing him." Mr. Brunner interjects before Grover reveals anything else. "We need the boy to mature more."

"But he may not have time. The summer solstice deadline-"

"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."

 _Ignorance? Summer solstice deadline?_

I glance at Percy, but he seems just as confused as I do. I tiptoe closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He rolls his eyes, but gives me a nod.

"Sir...he _saw_ her."

"His imagination." Mr. Brunner's voice is sharp in a way I had never heard it. "The Mist over the students and staff should be enough to convince him of that."

"Not Bethany." Grover interjects, and I jump when my name is brought into the conversation. "You've seen her sketches. You know that she-"

"She may suspect something...yes. Try not to involve her too much. She has nothing to worry about."

"But if she really is-"

"She is." Mr. Brunner insists. "You've seen it."

"Percy would never forgive me if...sir...I-I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice cracks.

"You haven't failed, Grover." Mr. Brunner's voice is gentle now, comforting. "I should have seen...let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall-"

 _Thud._ I nearly jump out of my skin. Percy is staring wide-eyed at his mythology book, and it takes me a moment to realize that he must have dropped it. I probably would have if I heard that my life was in danger too. There was silence in Mr. Brunner's office.

Percy gathers up the book and grabs my arm, backing us up until we could dodge into the nearest door we could find.

A shadow passed over the door, much taller than the wheelchair-bound teacher I'd come to admire. Percy gestured frantically at an object that seemed to take the shape of an archer's bow. I curl around myself, shaking, too afraid to breathe.

"Nothing." said Mr. Brunner, his voice drifting down the hall. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither. But I could have sworn…"

"Go back to the dorm. You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

A groan. "Don't remind me."

There are a couple of muted thuds on the floor, like someone is dragging broken drumsticks over it. Then Percy and I are left in silence. We stare at each other for a couple of moments, then wait for what seems like ages in the dark. We don't speak once we go back to our rooms. We walk together up the stairs, then head in opposite directions towards our dormitory.

Nancy raises an eyebrow when I return, but I merely turn my back on her and pull on my pajamas.

I really should have studied a bit, but I merely just went to sleep.


End file.
